


I’m the Violence in the Pouring Rain

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark, F/F, Hate Sex, Soldier!Saxa, War photographer!Mira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blonde tugged the needle out of her mouth and glared, eyeing Mira up and down from her position on the floor. “I could take you down in seconds,” she drawled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m the Violence in the Pouring Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t specified a time or place for this setting, so you can imagine it to be whatever war you like. Well, within reason.
> 
> This is the darkest thing I’ve ever written. It contains drugs & alcohol, swearing, hate sex, and more, but if you’re like me, once you’ve seen this show there’s nothing that will faze you. Also, can you tell I have a thing for Saxa’s hair?

Mira shut the door with her foot and locked away her camera and tripod. Sighing, she fell back onto the single bed, closing her eyes for a short moment, trying to get the pictures out of her head. As usual, she failed – the images she saw were stuck in there, and without a bit more help would remain there for days, if not longer. She opened her eyes again and sat up. It was hopeless.

She slung her legs over the side of the bed, staring at the peeling beige wall while gathering enough energy to do what she had to do. She stood, walked over to her suitcase, where she kept her clothes since the spartan hotel room had no wardrobe or dresser, and picked out a black dress, which she laid on the bed while she removed her combat trousers and T-shirt. After slipping on the dress, she changed her shoes and grabbed her wallet. The door slammed behind her on the way out.

Twenty minutes later, she was sitting on a barstool at the only pub in town, picking up a shot glass.

Another twenty minutes later, and she got up to go to the toilet. She shoved open the door, sticky on its hinges, and almost barged straight into the wavy-haired blonde sitting cross-legged on the floor, gripping a hypodermic needle in between her teeth as she rolled up a sleeve.

“Do you mind?” snarled the woman around the syringe, blue eyes blazing with a fire Mira recognised in herself.

“I do mind,” Mira retorted. “I come to use the bathroom and find someone sitting on the floor blocking my way. Move before I make you.”

The blonde tugged the needle out of her mouth and glared, eyeing Mira up and down from her position on the floor. “I could take you down in seconds,” she drawled.

“Ooh, I’m scared,” Mira mocked, faking a shiver.

“You want to test me? I’ve had a long day, I won’t go easy on you.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You’d have to get up off the floor first,” Mira pointed out, a smirk playing on her lips.

In a flash, the other woman had her backed against the door, arm across her throat, baring perfect white teeth. Mira grinned. Then she pressed hard against her opponent’s forearms, forcing her to loosen her grip, then pressed the advantage and slipped to the side, where she yanked the blonde’s arms behind her and shoved her face first into the wall.

Mira pressed the length of her body against her rival’s back, murmuring in her ear, “You could take me down in seconds, huh?”

She was flat on her back with a solid weight crushing her before she could blink, tears coming to her eyes at the impact of her head hitting the floor.

“Surrender?” the blonde grinned down at her.

“What are your terms?” she grunted.

“Buy me a drink,” said the other woman, wild hair cascading over her shoulders and tickling Mira’s face.

“If you tell me your name first,” Mira bargained, shifting her head to one side to avoid the long strands of hair. “I don’t buy drinks for everyone.”

The blonde smirked. “Saxa.”

“Mira.”

Saxa nodded, but didn’t move.

“Get off me if you want that fucking drink.”

* * *

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” asked Mira when they were both sitting at the bar, drinks in hand.

Saxa raised an eyebrow. “We’re in a fucking warzone and you’re asking where I learnt to fight?” From underneath her shirt, she pulled out her dog tags.

“You’re military,” Mira observed with a nod. “My condolences.”

Saxa downed a third of her glass in one go. “Why, what do you do?”

“Photography.” It was Mira’s turn to raise an eyebrow, challenging the other woman to react.

Saxa pulled a face before drinking more of her beer. “You know all about what we do, then.”

Mira stared back at her, blank-faced. “I only observe, I don’t make judgements.”

“But you do,” argued Saxa. “By taking photos of what’s going on, and sharing them, you’re making a statement, whether consciously or not.”

“You don’t like me, do you?”

“You disliked me first,” Saxa pointed out with a grin.

“True, but I didn’t come to this place to make friends.”

“Why’d you come, then?”

“Not your business,” Mira snapped, picking up her glass, finishing her beer, and slamming it down on the bar. “I didn’t get what I came for, anyway.” She stood up and walked out of there. She ignored the sensation of bold blue eyes on her arse as she stormed off.

* * *

Dawn’s rosy fingers were lighting up the barren valley as Mira set up her tripod. Camera in place, she looked down the valley through the lens and grinned. She tilted the camera and zoomed in by the smallest degree. A perfect shot. She captured it.

The area had been beautiful once, a vista of mountains and river valleys, before her country had invaded. Now, there were destroyed villages and dry, desolate landscapes of no worth to either side. The locals lived in constant fear of annihilation, and Mira had been very lucky to arrive and get accommodation before they grew even more distrusting of foreigners. She was free to go about her business as she pleased; the problem lay in getting out when she was done. But she put that thought out of her mind, let it be a future hurdle she’d leap over when she came to it.

She continued snapping photos, moving the camera and tripod to create something of a panorama. _A bloody ugly one_ , she thought, _all dryness and absent hope._ She pressed the shutter button, smiling at the satisfying click of the shutter being released.

She was disturbed by the sound of footsteps, a large group of people crunching up the path.

“Excuse me ma’am,” came a bored, feminine voice, “we’re going to have to ask – oh, it’s you.”

Mira looked up at the group and found herself face-to-face with a woman in camo with her blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun. Mira laughed. “Today I’m in _your_ way, is that it?”

“Hilarious, Mira,” Saxa deadpanned. “Now pack up and leave.”

“It that a challenge?” Mira’s lip curled.

“I’m authorised – and equipped,” said Saxa, gesturing at her squad, “to coerce you, if you don’t leave of your own free will.”

“Fine, I’ll go,” replied Mira, switching off the camera and packing it. “I’ll just have to take photos of the aftermath instead.”

Saxa growled, but didn’t say anything.

After collapsing her tripod and leaving, not without a lingering stare at Saxa, Mira allowed herself a grin. She’d got in the last word.

* * *

Mira slammed the hotel phone down in its cradle, seething. Her family had booked her on a flight home, now of all times. The town’s pub owner had closed the place last week, and the locals were packing up and fleeing over the mountains in herds. Those who hadn’t left yet avoided her, and the hotel manager had advised her to go too. Something big was about to go down. And Mira was being sent home.

She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself as she paced. Despite her need to be out there, documenting events, she knew the photos she’d taken so far would be of no use to anyone if she didn’t survive what was to come. There was no way to send photos in a warzone, especially not now. She had to leave, for this to be worth anything.

When she’d driven herself crazy with her own pacing, footsteps loud on the wooden floor, she left the hotel to get some fresh air. Maybe an evening walk would calm her down.

Half a block away from the hotel, she was thinking _no such luck_ as she walked straight into another woman. She groaned when she saw who it was.

“We meet again,” Saxa grinned, all sharp teeth and messy hair.

“We do indeed,” replied Mira, trying not to clench her fists. “Must be fate.” She smirked.

“Or destiny,” countered Saxa, glancing down at Mira’s cleavage and back up at her face.

Mira folded her arms and glared. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, I should think.” Saxa stepped closer to speak in Mira’s face. “Going for a walk.” Then she stepped backwards, scowling. “I should be asking _you_ that question, since, you know, I’m the soldier here. I can go wherever I like without justifying myself to _you._ ”

Mira rolled her eyes. “I mean why are you here? In this place?”

“Why do you think?” It was Saxa’s turn to roll her eyes. “To fight for a better world.”

“No, why are you really here?” Mira fixed her strong gaze on Saxa’s face.

Saxa leant forwards, into Mira’s personal space. “You want to know? You really want to know why I’m here? Okay, I’m here because I fucking _love it_ ,” she spat. “I was born with violence in my veins, and it’s wrong but I fucking _live_ off it, Mira. But you’re not so different, are you? You’re worse, because you get off on _watching_ what people like me do. We’re both fucking twisted. And you know something? It’s not going to change.”

“No,” agreed Mira, “we’re going to keep on doing what we do until it destroys us.” A bitter laugh. “Hell, we’re halfway there. Just waiting for the fucking fall.”

“The fall,” Saxa nodded, and there was something knowing in her eyes that sent shivers down Mira’s spine. She wished more than ever that she weren’t going home in a few days, that she could see whatever was about to go down.

Saxa grabbed her shoulder, keeping eye contact. “I’m not your enemy, Mira. We’re too alike.”

“Maybe not,” Mira allowed, “but I have a lot of excess energy right now, so I’ve got an ultimatum for you: either fuck me or fight me.”

Saxa’s hand moved from Mira’s shoulder to her hip, caressing it. “Where are you staying?”

* * *

Mira slammed Saxa into the door, spreading her legs with her right knee. She tore open Saxa’s pink-purple-blue flannel shirt as Saxa ground down on her knee, holding up her leg. Next thing she knew, Saxa had spun them around and she was the one with her back hitting the door while Saxa bit at her neck and put a hand under her shirt, hair going everywhere.

“Wha-?” she began.

Saxa squeezed her breast, hard. As Mira gasped, Saxa growled, “You said fuck you or fight you, didn’t you? Well, I’m greedy; I pick both.” Still holding up Mira’s leg to thrust against, she clamped her lips to Mira’s nipple through the fabric, biting and sucking and making Mira moan.

Enough was enough. Mira pushed Saxa’s shoulders and turned them around, pressing her opponent into the door once again. She yanked on the blonde curls to bring Saxa’s face up to hers and kiss her, open-mouthed and hot with tongues and teeth and saliva, fingers still pulling on Saxa’s hair to keep her face at the right angle. She cupped Saxa’s breast with her other hand, rubbing the nipple with her thumb while they kissed. Saxa shuddered under Mira’s touch. She grinned into the kiss, and continued the assault.

It wasn’t long before Saxa fought free and regained control, spinning Mira around and pressing up against her back. She gasped as Saxa’s right hand skimmed down over her stomach and slipped under her waistband. She stood powerless as Saxa pressed against her clit, nipping at her neck while keeping her in place with a left hand over her breast. Saxa was merciless, rubbing hard until Mira was swearing under her breath and sweating with the effort to keep hold of her senses. When her pleasure began to uncoil in her abdomen, she elbowed Saxa in the stomach, causing her to let go. Saxa grunted. Mira took advantage of the other woman’s surprise and twirled around, pushing her backwards onto the bed.

Saxa got the idea. She removed all her clothes, then moved further up the bed to rest her head on the pillow, smirking as she looked up at Mira. Holding Saxa’s strong gaze, Mira stripped down to her underwear before climbing onto the bed and straddling Saxa’s hips. She leant to swirl her tongue around each of Saxa’s pert nipples, enjoying the feel of the strong body writhing beneath her. She sat up and repositioned herself so that she could press her thigh against Saxa’s cunt. Saxa moaned, thrusting her hips and rubbing herself on Mira’s leg, and grabbed Mira’s hair to pull her down for another messy kiss.

Mira pulled away, instead returning the favour and leaving bite-marks all the way down Saxa’s neck. When she nipped at the collarbone, Saxa grunted and her whole body trembled, but Mira didn’t have time to triumph for she was being flipped over and Saxa was holding her down. She spat out a mouthful of blonde hair and looked up into Saxa’s feral face.

“Despite your lack of training,” drawled Saxa, squeezing Mira’s breast again, “I think we’re pretty evenly matched.”

Mira raised an eyebrow, looking back at Saxa with disinterest in an effort to hide her arousal. “Did you miss the part where I made you come first?”

“Semantics,” Saxa grinned, and proceeded to dip her fingers inside Mira with no further warning. Mira gasped, glaring up at her. “Two can play this game,” she quipped.

Mira, already close to orgasm, didn’t need much encouragement. Saxa thrust two fingers inside her and rubbed a rough thumb over her clit a few times, and Mira was crying out as she rode out her pleasure.

She thought she heard Saxa say something, but she wasn’t sure. “What was that?” she panted.

Saxa grinned, rolling off the bed and getting to her feet. “I said, you may have made me come first, but I made you scream.”

Mira sat up, leaning against the headboard. “That was nothing. You wouldn’t even be on my top ten shags.”

Saxa paused from where she was putting her underwear back on, and retorted, “You weren’t any better.”

“I think you’ll find I was.” Mira adjusted her bra and knickers before sliding off the bed and grabbing her own clothes.

They dressed in silence, not acknowledging each other until Saxa went to leave. She scribbled something on a piece of paper and shoved it in Mira’s hand. “In case you want to do this again some time,” she explained, and walked out with a hair toss and a wink.

Mira frowned, stuffing the paper into her pocket without looking at it.

* * *

Mira was wheeling her suitcase through security when the officials approached her. Dressed in white and addressing her in the politest way, they asked her to step into an interview room for a little chat. _Shit._ Not letting them see her fear, she presented the two men with a pleasant smile as they invited her to sit.

“May we see your passport, ma’am?” asked the smaller, kinder-looking one in a strong accent.

She handed it over. “What seems to be the problem?” she asked, crossing her legs and hiding her hands in her lap.

The man opened her passport and checked it against her face and a coloured slip of paper. He nodded to his larger partner, then turned to look at her again, this time with a serious expression on his face. “You are aware that our two nations are at war, yes?”

“Yes,” she answered, trying not to twiddle her thumbs.

“And you are a photographer?”

“That’s right,” she replied, keeping her tone confident even as her heart beat faster.

“We believe you carry photographs that may be of interest to us,” the bigger man spoke for the first time since they’d entered the room.

Mira swallowed, but shook her head. “I don’t believe I do.”           

“What is the nature of your photographs?” That was the smaller man again.

“They’re of scenery, mostly,” she lied. She’d taken at least one spool of photos of casualties from both sides, as well as other, more incriminating images. She blinked, faking a smile.

“That’s interesting, because our once beautiful landscape has been tainted with war. I don’t think the public in your country would care much about barren valleys.” He paused for effect. “Unless, of course, you added context, hmm?”

The bigger man – they still hadn’t introduced themselves by name – tilted his head, eyes boring into Mira’s. “And what context might that be, ma’am? Something to do with war, perhaps?”

Glancing at the Venetian blinds in the window, she bit her tongue; they all knew the game was up. She sighed. “Yes, I’m a war photographer,” she spat. “I take pictures of what this war has done to your country, and I’m going to publish them. Happy now?”

The smaller man nodded. “We don’t have a problem with that, ma’am. In fact we don’t have any problems with your activities here.”

Had she heard that right? “You don’t?” she repeated.

“We don’t,” he reassured her. “In fact, you may even be able to help us.”

She frowned. “How so?” she asked, caution edging her words. She uncrossed her legs and leant forwards a fraction.

“You have seen your people’s military base, yes? You know where it is?”

Her blood ran cold. Even if she denied it, they’d see through her deception. Without speaking, she nodded, just once.

“Then you will give us its location.” The smaller man leant back in his chair with a victorious smile.

“I won’t betray my own people,” she declared, passion heating her voice. “I would rather die than cause any more deaths, especially not theirs.”

“That can be arranged.” The bigger man came to stand behind her.

“You won’t give us a location, but you will publish photographs showing the evils your country has committed in our land? I think you need to be taught a lesson in loyalty, ma’am.”

Mira seethed. “I show the bad things done by both. I don’t pick sides, but I won’t betray my country either.”

“That’s a shame. I was so hoping that you would cooperate with us.” The smaller man put a telephone on the desk in front of her. “In that case, you are allowed one last phone call.”

“One last phone call before what?” she demanded.

He bared his teeth in a cruel smile. “Enjoy your last five minutes.” With that, he left the room, his colleague following and locking the door behind them.

Mira released a shaky breath. Then, gathering herself, she remembered the piece of paper in her pocket. She pulled it out and laughed. She dialled the number and waited until she heard the phone being picked up at the other end before putting the piece of paper in her mouth and chewing it.

“Hello?” came Saxa’s voice.

Mira winced, half due to the taste of paper and ink, half due to the fact that her last phone call was to Saxa, of all people, and not her family or friends back home.

“Hello?” Saxa repeated.

Mira swallowed the paper with a grimace. “It’s Mira,” she said.

“Yeah? What do you want? Ready for a real fight this time?”

Instead of responding to that, or demanding help, Mira found herself saying, “I realised I didn’t say goodbye.”

There was a pause. Then, “You’re leaving?” Mira dismissed the note of disappointment she thought she heard in Saxa’s voice.

“I’m at the airport. Listen, this isn’t a social call, and I don’t have much time.” Mira jiggled her leg as she spoke.

“What is it?”

“A couple of officials have found out what I do, and I’ve been threatened with death unless I tell them where your base is.”

“Shit, Mira-”

“Shh! I’m not going to tell them anything, but they’ll probably go through my photos and work it out.”

“That doesn’t sound good, Mira…”

Mira slammed her fist down on the desk. “It’s not good at all! So listen to me, Saxa,” she said. “They’ll find you, and you know as well as I do that you’re outnumbered. So you need to move, and quickly.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” Saxa retorted.

“I’m not a traitor to my countr-” Mira cut herself off. “Saxa, I’m about to die in a few minutes! I don’t have time for this. Just do what I say, and do something about these bastards.”

“I thought you didn’t pick sides,” said the smaller official.

She jumped, not having heard him re-enter the room.

“Time’s up,” announced his large partner.

“That wasn’t five minutes,” she argued.

“Time. Is. Up,” he repeated.

“Are you there?” asked Saxa on the other end of the line.

“I’ll see you in hell,” replied Mira.

“Yeah.” Saxa sounded as defeated as Mira. “Wait! I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thanks.”

Mira could only whisper, “Yeah.”

“Goodbye, Mira.”

“Goodbye, Saxa.” She put down the receiver before she could start to shake.

The officials were both holding guns now. They grabbed her and walked her to another room, this one unfurnished and with a concrete floor. _Easier to wash the blood off_ , she guessed.

“Up against that wall,” ordered the bigger man, pushing her towards it with his gun.

Her eyelids drifted shut for a moment as she considered. There was no way she could take down both the men, not without a weapon, and even if she could, she’d be caught before she could board her flight. She swallowed, and opened her eyes, holding her head up high as her hands curled into fists. She was making this sacrifice for her people, for her family, her friends… and for Saxa. Saxa, who would not meet her fate with her eyes closed. Neither would Mira.


End file.
